I Am Stronger
by peacekeeper364
Summary: My first fanfic. Please review! Oneshot about Clove's thoughts before The Hunger Games


Peacekeeper364: I know this has the same title as another story, sorry about that! Please review.

_**I am Stronger**_

"Clove Fowlfrost!"

I wince. My name has been called for the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games are a fight to the death on live television. All twenty-four of the contestants, or tributes, are between the ages of twelve and eighteen, and in my district, District Two, many people are trained illegally before their twelfth birthday. It's bloody and brutal. The Hunger Games are the number one reason I _hate_ living in Panem. Of course, I am the only one in District Two who thinks like this. Here, being chosen is an honor, and my hate of the Games has made many people wonder if my parents really lived in District Two when they were alive.

I carefully turn my face into a mask of happiness and almost skip up to the podium next to Pusa Daffodil, my future escort, the man who will help me along to my probable death. His hair is the shade of spring grass and the smell of roses is so strong I almost choke. He is wearing blue lipstick and a smile that looks as if it is made of plastic. Maybe it is, it certainly would not be the weirdest thing the Capitol did to a person.

"Do we have any volunteers?" asks Pusa. Nobody steps forward. Odd, but not unheard of. Almost everyone in Districts One, Two, and Four think it is an honor to be chosen, but in District Two, volunteering is considered a small bit impolite, because the volunteer is taking away the opportunity of the chosen one. _Usually_, it is not enough to stop people from volunteering. But my last shred of hope disappears with the sound of the wind. Why did no one want to take my place? I will probably never know.

"All right then, let's have a round of applause!" he cries.

When the noise finally dies down. Pusa draws the second name. Tyrone someone-or-other, a fourteen-year-old with short black hair and green eyes. He is barely on stage when another boy volunteers. Cato... something. I honestly do not care what his name is. As soon as the every-year-made alliance of the tributes, from Districts One, Two, and Four disappears, he will be trying to kill me. I am sure of it. Just looking in his eyes tells me he will stop at nothing to win. It certainly will not take much effort on his part, he almost crushes my hand when we shake.

After the drawing of the names (or the Reaping), the tributes are taken to the Justice Building to say goodbye to friends and family. When they put me in a room full of velvet couches and fine materials that I cannot name but I am sure anyone else would be able to, I wait. And wait. And wait. Nobody comes, not that I really expected anyone would. I do not have parents, and though I do have some acquaintances, I suppose not one of them will mourn me if I die in the arena.

Just when I am wondering why they brought me here anyway, the mayor steps in.

"The council said I had to come. Proper and such," he says.

Ouch, that hurts.

"Just wanted to say good-bye, kid. And good luck, not that there is any chance you will make it out."

I look at him in amazement. How could he say that to my face?

He seems to read my thoughts. "Hey, it's true. You are weak. You hate the Games. Even if you had the personality of that Cato kid, you do not have nearly enough muscle to survive long." He waits a moment, then leaves the room. Just like that, without the decency to say so much as another good-bye.

At that moment, it happens. Something inside me snaps. I can feel my heart turning to stone. It's almost magical, really, how quickly it happens. Maybe, when you have so much sadness you could cry enough to fill a pond twenty times, it starts changing into anger. I've certainly had enough sadness. The feeling is strange, an odd mix of envy toward the people who will never again have to worry about losing their lives to their peers, and anger at just about everything else. I expect it to pass, but it doesn't.

So I welcome it.

I know now that I can survive, because I am stronger than everyone else. I am stronger than the mayor. I am even stronger than the Capitol and their games. I am stronger.

A Peacekeeper comes to take me to the train station. I make a decision. I will live. I will win. That'll show that mayor who cannot survive long.

As we are walking (it hardly seems necessary to drive when the station is less than half of one mile away), the world is strangely quiet. I can hardly believe there are no cameras. Either they are too focused on Cato, or they are not allowed to see me until I get to the train station. I hope it's the latter.

Then suddenly, someone laughs. I spin around, only to see a stupid mockingjay. It's a silly bird, a mix of a mockingbird and the Capitol's old weapon, the jabberjay (jabberjays had the ability to repeat human conversations, but mockingjays cannot replicate words, just sounds and melodies). He has just picked up some baby's laugh, but I feel like he is laughing at _me_. "Look at you," he says. "A little girl pretending to be deadly, pretending she can survive. That is funny!"

Before the Peacekeeper can react, a pick up a large rock and flick it at the bird. It misses by no more than an inch. He keeps laughing.

This disheartens me somewhat. How can I survive, kill everyone else, if I can't even kill that mockingjay.

_If I can't even kill the mockingjay.  
_

_I can't kill the mockingjay. _

For some reason, this haunts me. It's as if I am already in the arena. As if it's just me and one stupid bird. I swear, if I so much as lay eyes on something that resembles or reminds me of a mockingjay, I kill it. Because I am stronger than it will every be. I am stronger than the mockingjay.

As soon as we reach the station, my spirits lift. I see Cato and know exactly what my strategy will be. It'll be to follow him. I will do what he does, say what he says, and adopt every aspect of his personality (after all, the mayor said he was stronger). Then, when the time is right, I will kill him. Because I am stronger than he is.

I am stronger than everyone.

"See you soon District Two," I call out as we board the train.

Oh yes, I will see District Two again soon, because I am strong enough to survive.


End file.
